Poison & Wine
by wanderers
Summary: Shameless, plotless smut. Rachel needs something, Quinn helps.


_What am I doing? Why did I agree to this? Why is it so hot? When did tequila become so…tasty?_

All these questions and more are running through my head as I make my way towards the kitchen. Or was it the bathroom? Noah's house is so confusing, and suddenly I understand what Brittany meant about recipes. Who decided that a party in mid-summer, without a pool, was a good idea? All my clothes feel so heavy and all I want to do is take them off. Bathroom, that's what I was looking for.

No one seems to notice that I'm here, to notice that I'm clearly under the influence of alcohol already, and that I'm completely lost in a five room's house. Absolutely ridiculous. No one but Quinn Fabray. Hazel eyes were on me all night, as if she's braving herself to come talk to me but she never does. She's sitting on the couch, surrounded by drunken boys that I have never seen in my entire life, and she seems so tiny between them, so fragile. I make my way towards her through the sea of people; I just made my mission to rescue her. I wonder if she can feel the heat of my body already all the way there.

_Do you? Can you feel this string pulling me towards you, too?_

I reach her and place my hand on her shoulder, trying to stay on my feet and not tumbling on my sides. She's wearing a tank top and her skin is so, so hot.

Dazed, I look at her, trying to remember why I'm here, why my hand is on her shoulder, what I'm supposed to say and why my thighs are pressing hard against each other. She just looks at me, confused, and replies "I know". But all I can think about now is if the color of her eyes changes depending on her mood, because suddenly they are not hazel anymore but dark brown.

_What are you thinking of? Do you feel hot, too?_

She grabs my hand but I quickly pull away, linking our arms, I fear if I don't hold onto her I might fall, but I might fall if I do too.

I raise my free hand, gently gliding my fingers over her arm. I can see how slowly her hair rises and I can't help but giggle because for some reason I found that to be the cutest thing in the entire world. Quinn looks at me confused again, and she opens her mouth to speak but I can't hear anything. No words. The music is clouding my thoughts and my ears if that's possible, but I simply nod at her with a smile on my face anyway as we enter some room. Just because I'm drunk doesn't mean I lost my manners.

It's his room, Noah's. I realize the second I step in because the calendar I made for him during the week that we dated it's still there. I smile and I turn to Quinn, looking down at our linked arms. When did that happen? Her skin is burning.

_Do you feel hot too? Do you?_

"I'm hot." I say, quickly pulling away from her because her skin was burning mine, but I don't realize that I pulled too hard, too fast, and now I'm falling. She catches me right before I can touch the floor. My savior; a blonde princess in shiny armor.

We are in an awkward position I notice, but I can't move. Her face is so close to mine, and her eyes are so hypnotizing. _What is it about you?_ She helps me get back on my feet again, and I still can't remember why I'm here but the burning feeling in my arm is still there, and my clothes are still there too, and it's summer, and everything is so hot and I just want to scream.

And I do.

I don't think I say any words, it was just sound and it didn't last more than maybe two seconds. But I did, and now probably Quinn thinks I'm crazy.

Right, Quinn.

I look at her and she doesn't seem fazed at all, and I can't tell if that's a good or a bad thing. So I simply stop thinking.

"Wouldn't have taken you for a screamer, Berry." She said, raising that oh so perfect eyebrow of hers. Was that supposed to sound as dirty as it sounded in my head? I don't know what to say. I just stand there; looking at her with what I assume is the dumbest expression.

She steps closer to me and I can feel the heat of my body growing with each step. She doesn't take her eyes off of me for a second in that short distance, and now I feel like crying because it's so, so hot.

_What are you doing to me, Quinn Fabray? Stop. Don't stop. Yes._

Quinn is standing right in front of me now, and I can't help but be amazed at how I would fit perfectly into the crook of her neck…if I ever were to nuzzle my nose against that soft skin. Or place featherlight kisses there…

_But what are you doing to me?_

I tell myself that this is the alcohol talking…or thinking. But don't they say that a drunken mind speak a sober heart? Was that what my heart desired? _Yes, yes, yes_.

"Do you want me to take you home? Maybe you could take a cold shower there, since you're…hot." Why does every word that comes out of her mouth sounds so suggestive and inviting? Since when being in Noah's room turns me into him, a very hormonal teenager? I shouldn't even be thinking this way. Granted, I am single now, but that does not mean…

_But your eyes, your lips, your everything_. Why can't I shower here? Why can't she help me?

**Stop that**.

_No_.

**Yes**.

_Why?_

…

It's a lost fight with myself. I don't know what I want, but whatever that is, it involves Quinn. Is this normal? I bite my lip. "Take off my shirt." It's almost a whisper, but I know she heard that because of the surprise in her face. "It's just so hot…" I almost plead. Why can't I do that myself? Why do I need to feel Quinn's skin against mine?

_Why do you feel so good?_

She swallowed. Is that a good sign? I stare at her hand intently until she finally reaches the hem of my shirt, but she does nothing to pull it off. _What are you doing? Why are you so cruel?_ Instead she guides me towards the bed and I can feel my heart picking up. What is she doing? Why am I so eager to find out?

We are both standing right there, and I can feel her hands moving upwards, the fabric of my shirt burning against my skin as she painfully slowly pulls it off. And…and I'm standing in front of Quinn Fabray only wearing a bra. Okay. Deep breaths. You're good. She threw the shirt aside and made absolutely no effort to blatantly stare at my chest area, and I'm surprised that she's even more of a gentleman than any of my ex-boyfriends will ever be. I feel like kissing her right there. No warnings, just a kiss.

But she's moving away and she's…sitting? She's sitting at the top of the bed and she's looking at me with the sultriest eyes I've ever seen. Why haven't I seen them before? I want more of them. She reaches for my hands and is pulling me towards her as she spreads her legs. I'm standing right in front of her and before I have time to think about anything, I feel cool air being blown in my stomach and it's heavenly. I have died and went to heaven. That is the only explanation as to why something as simple as that feels so good. Forget performing in front of thousand people, this is the best feeling I have ever experienced.

I close my eyes momentarily and goodness, did I just moan?

_Please don't stop, please don't stop, please don't stop._

I keep pleading in my head, fearing that sensational feeling wouldn't ever go away.

But it did. Too soon, too fast. I immediately open my eyes and Quinn is nowhere to be seen. I can't move because suddenly everything feels so hot and heavy again. Was it all a dream? Did I dream all of that, all of Quinn?

_Please don't let it be a dream._

_._

I plop into the bed, bringing my hand to my head and covering my eyes as I close them. I'm trying to convince myself that it wasn't a dream, I couldn't have possibly dreamed the way I gave Quinn goose bumps, the way she made me feel like my body was on fire. The way she made me _feel_. I whine and make a weird sound, placing my free hand over my stomach. It wasn't a dream; she took off my shirt, not me.

_Come back. Please come back._

I'm not sure if I actually say that out loud, but I mean it. I want her to come back. Things feel too hot without her, and now a cold shower sounds like the best idea.

But then…hands. Hands replacing my own over my stomach. I have to restrain myself from jumping off the bed and screaming before I uncover my eyes. My first thought was that someone broke into Noah's house and I immediately regret not bringing my rape whistle with me. Then I remember this is a party, it could be anyone. But my eyes are free now, and there she was, staring back at me with the most dazzling smile.

_You're beautiful. Please let me touch your face and kiss your cheeks._

I have never wanted anyone so much in my life in such a short amount of time. But Quinn Fabray…she takes away the 'im' in 'possible'. She makes things better and she makes me feel better. Her presence alone relaxes me. And again, I want to kiss her.

But no. If she's here it means it wasn't a dream, it means she left. And I'm not as drunk anymore. How could anyone not sober up when Quinn Fabray looks at you in a certain way?

"Where were you?" I sound so angry, so…possessive. I don't even recognize myself. But I kind of like it.

She doesn't acknowledge my question and simply takes my hand in hers, pointing at the bedside table. The fact that she's not speaking to me irritates me more than it should, but then my eyes dart to the small wooden table and…_I love you Quinn Fabray. I absolutely adore you and want to have your kids, or babysit yours or…something! I worship you and most definitely owe you one, or two, or ten._

A small ice container is resting there begging to be used, and I could get married right there.

I'm too distracted and excited to get some relief from the heat, that it doesn't occur to me to stop thinking what that meant.

_What do you have in mind, Quinn? What do you want to do? Do you want me? Do you want to kiss me too?_

It's driving me insane, the way she looks at me with such…want. I feel like breaking into song right now because even my thoughts are too messy and all over the place right now, that would be the only way I'd get to properly express myself, through song. A million different titles pop into my head and I actually laugh because I'm ridiculous, there's no other word to describe myself in this moment — although drunk is a second close. What's your fantasy. That was the first song I thought of.

_What is your fantasy, Quinn? Is this one of them? Get your ex-sort-of-enemy and former kind-of-friend alone to have your way with them, with __**me**__? Was that __**my**__ fantasy?_

I don't realize until I feel Quinn straddling my hips, that she's the one in charge of the situation. Anything. She could ask for anything and I'd gladly comply.

I want to ask what are we doing, what is she doing —_What are you doing to me?_— but I can't seem to find the words. I don't want to find them, I don't want to break the silence and ruin this moment because it's as spectacular as it can get. I'm scared it's going to be taken away from me as it's been a few moments earlier, and I don't want that. I want to enjoy it, I want some relief, and I want Quinn's hands on me.

She has managed to render me completely speechless, and that is not something that happens every day. _You are magnificent, Quinn Fabray._

I see and feel her leaning down to grab an ice cube, I can feel her hips grounding into mine and her chest pressed against mine. I let out a soft sigh, never taking my eyes off of her. Does she realize what she's doing to me? She has to, right? No one can be so…seductive without even realize it.

_Why are you doing this?_

I echo that question but aloud this time. I want to know, I'm curious. I need words, an explanation, reasons, facts. I want to know everything, I just need…something. But Quinn doesn't say anything. She just smirks and it's driving me crazy. What is she trying to do to me, what does she want from me? God.

She brings the small ice cube to her lips and licks it, and I think I'm going to pass out. She slowly places it on my stomach, right over my skirt waistband, and I can't help but buck my hips against hers because _goodness_, I so needed that and I haven't even realized how much I needed it until now.

Her eyes turns dark again, and she leans down slightly, propping herself on her elbow as she keeps moving the cube in circles over my stomach and I'm in heaven. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to feel like this, whatever this is. I feel lightheaded, dizzy, still hot and now add a burning in my lower stomach. A burn that was aching for Quinn's fingertips against my skin.

"I'm just trying to help you, Rach." She says in a low and seductive voice, and how can she not know what she's doing to me?

"I don't…," I stutter. I close my eyes, trying to focus on everything, on Quinn's hips over mine, the few hairs falling over my shoulder and tickling me, the soft brushes on my stomach… "Quinn, I need…," What do I need? What do I want? "I need you," I breathe out, as if I were confessing my darkest secret. "I need your hands on me, and your lips everywhere." Where did this Rachel come from? I don't know, nor do I want to, but Christ, I really need Quinn.

The ice cube is almost non-existent now, it melted completely, and it makes me wonder how Quinn feels over my touch. Am I giving her goose bumps like I did earlier? Is her skin aching for my touch, like mine is doing for her?

I lick my lips, waiting and anticipating. I see her making herself more comfortable, that same challenging and seductive expression on her face. She looks like I imagine the perfect woman would look like. And I like it, I like her.

She leans down, and my breath catches in my throat. Our lips are only millimeters apart and Quinn's breath is hot on my lips. I am buzzing. And nervous, and oh so ready. I want to grab her by the neck and shorten the distance and just kiss her already, like I've been wanting to do since I got to Noah's place — though if I have to be honest, I always wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips.

But I let her take her own time. I don't want to scare her or for her to stop. I know she wants it too, I can read it in her eyes.

I whisper a "Please", because I probably am the most impatient person in the world, and she just smiles, and I am dizzy. She closes the distance between us, and_ Holy sweet Barbra_. Her lips against mine were gentle, but they were applying the right pressure. Perfect. I wonder how many times she thought of doing this, how is it that she knows exactly how to kiss me, to push the right buttons.

I am Dorothy. I feel like Dorothy landing in Oz and everything popped into Technicolor. I think I stole that from somewhere, or I've heard it before, but I can't bring myself to care because it's the perfect way to describe it, the kiss, my emotions, everything.

I get greedy easily, and I want more. More of the kiss, more of Quinn. I'm keeping it chaste, though there is nothing of that about the situation. Two girls, one topless and the other straddling her hips, kissing…there was definitely nothing chaste about that. I allow myself to pull lightly on Quinn's bottom lip and I get weak on the knees. A soft moan escapes my lips into the kiss and I have never felt more embarrassed in my life, because it's just a kiss. Only a kiss that managed to make feel dizzy, and did nothing but to increase that burning in my lower stomach. I am in so much trouble.

It ended far too quick for my likes, but I look at Quinn — lips slightly parted and dark eyes, and I know she didn't want to pull away either. I feel like I should say something, anything. I just kissed Quinn Fabray! The same Quinn who made it her mission to torment me when we first started high school, and the same Quinn whom I've recently become friends with. There has to be something wrong about that picture. But I don't care. I just want to keep kissing her if she allows me to. I want to make her feel the same things she's doing to me.

Her hips ground on mine again and I have to bite my lip hard not to let out another embarrassing moan. But _Moses_, I want her to do it again. And again, and again, and again.

_Please say something, please kiss me again, please touch me. Just please, Quinn._

She does as I instruct. Did she read my mind? No, that's ridiculous, there's no such thing as mind readers, but _Goodness, Quinn's lips_. And Quinn's hands, and Quinn's hips, and Quinn's everything.

I gasp against her lips. This is so different from the first kiss. So different and so much better too. It's bruising, almost as if Quinn is punishing for let herself get to this point. So I try to sooth her lips with my tongue, trying to say without words that it's okay, that I want this, that I know she wants this too, that I won't tell. My lips are too busy to speak anyway.

Even so, her lips are still pressing hard against mine, and heat pools lower in my stomach with the rough treatment, and I feel dirty. There is a delicious friction as both our hips move at the same pace; it's so devilish good that I don't want it to stop.

I suddenly remember that I have the use of my hands too, and they quickly make its way one to tangle itself in Quinn's hair, and the other one to her ass, pulling her even closer.

Moans echo on the room, and I can't be really sure who they're from, but it is music to my ears and I am sure I could listen to it all night. "Quinn, please…touch me." I can't even bring myself to care if I sound too desperate, or if it's only been a few minutes, or hours. Time means absolutely nothing now, everything slowed down and it feels as if I've been teased by Quinn Fabray since forever. And I want it to stop, now.

_Please just touch me, please. Let the pads of your fingers become printing blocks and write all over my body._

Her eyes turn predatory yet wary, they're almost black. I see her stop all of her movements and slowly tracing patters with her fingers on my sides, almost testing me, as if she needs some proof that I really want this. So I place my hands on hers, and guide them upwards. Her hands reach my breasts quickly, and I close my eyes and throw my head back; I can feel my breath quickening. But then…kisses are being placed along my jaw, and down my neck, collarbone…and I'm pretty sure my skin is on fire now.

_Don't stop, don't stop please. Keep going, lower and lower._

And she does. Good God, she does as if she really is reading my mind.

Quinn's mouth grazing my collarbone, and I want to scream. Quinn's mouth following the round of my breast, and I could cry. Quinn's mouth _kissing_ my breast over my bra, and I am dead. Literally dead on the floor. Or the bed, whichever. The fact that she's making me feels things I have never felt before, not even with Noah, Finn, or Jesse…this is amazing. Impressive, fantastic, just great. And there's not even a hint of sarcasm in that. It is great. And it seems almost natural that it's Quinn the one to cause all of these emotions in me. So I choose not to question that now, I just want to enjoy the feel of her lips all over me.

The desire and burning between my thighs is too much to ignore, and I need her to do something about it, but I don't know how to ask. So I buck my hips a little bit, hoping she gets the hint. And all gods bless Quinn Fabray's soul, because she does. She sits, still straddling my hips but quickly changing positions. She's straddling my leg now, and her hand travels to my thigh, massaging it slowly and at the same time spreading my legs. How many times did she do this? She's like a pro.

I wonder if she can feel the heat between my legs already. And pardon my language, but I am completely wet for her. And I am not completely inexperienced, no Sir. I may seem innocent, but my 'wanting to wait until I'm 25 year old' had been long gone for a while now. Yet, this is a new experience for me. I never imagined I would do something remotely similar to this, but I want it to happen, I want Quinn's hand between my legs, and I want Quinn's tongue inside my mouth. I want her to make me squirm under her fingertips.

Quinn's eyes aren't predatory anymore, instead, they are warm yet they're still dark. Warm, and caring, and…and, what's that word? Loving? No, that couldn't be it. But I trust her. I look at her and I trust her.

"Touch me," I demand. And I have the need to crash my lips against hers, so I do. The atmosphere is changing, and the intimacy is skyrocketing to new levels. The air is not filled with lust and tension anymore, though there's still some, but this…it's different. It's not love, that would be ridiculous, but it's something. Something that makes me feel comfortable enough to give myself to her, and I can only hope it's doing the same thing to her.

Quinn's hand is over my underwear now, and the simple touch made me buck my hips against her fingers in less than a second. _I want you now. Please, please, please, stop teasing me_. She starts tracing circles over my underwear and I want to open my mouth and yell obscenities at her because this is pure torture, but before I get the chance, she slips her hand and _someone, please, help me_.

My head is dizzy again, but I don't want her to stop. _Don't you dare stopping, Quinn Fabray_. I swallow hard. Quinn's fingers are right in my center, tracing slow circles that are quickly becoming too much to handle but I still want more. But I don't say anything, I let Quinn explore for as long as she wants. I _want _her to explore me. Her face is unreadable at this point, but I want to know what she's thinking of. She seems intrigued, fascinated even, that all of _this_ is because of her. It makes me want to kiss her again, just because. Her fingers are going up and down, dragging the wetness back up. She really is a pro.

_How many times have you done this to yourself? What were you thinking of? Were you thinking of me?_

I can't help that I want to know. Even when my eyes keep shutting close because I'm feeling too much, and pleasure is washing through in waves, I still want to know. Is this turning her on, too? Does she want me to touch her?

And then, with a simple movement, she starts rocking her hips against my thigh and it's the sexiest thing I have ever seen. I try to keep my eyes open, to enjoy the show, but I feel her fingers close to my entrance and before I can say anything aloud, two fingers enter me and I moan loudly in pleasure.

Quinn Fabray, head bitch in charge? More like Quinn Fabray, sex goddess.

My leg stars moving at the same pace Quinn's hips are moving. It's only fair that she gets something in return, right? And the way her lips part in pleasure, and the soft moans she lets out… God, I am in so much trouble.

But even if she's shamelessly riding my leg, her fingers never stop moving inside me, and I'm just so, so close. If I felt my body hot before, now I am literally in hell. A hell that feels like heaven also, because Quinn's fingers are heavenly; I feel like I could start a new religion. Her fingers are sliding deep and curling just at the right moment, and her palm is now grinding against the swollen bud, and _Yes, yes, yes, yes_. I push my leg up against Quinn's center, wanting her to feel the same I'm feeling but knowing it won't be enough. Her hips buck and her fingers go deeper inside of me and I'm crying out, because I can feel my own walls clenching against Quinn's fingers.

As I close my eyes, I feel lips against my skin, my neck, kissing, sucking and biting and goodness, it's bringing me closer and closer to the edge. Is Quinn close too? Do I get to touch her too? Please, I really want to. I grip her ass again, squeezing hard as if I can't get enough. And I can't, I'm greedy and I still want more. But my moves get frantic and clumsy every second, and I'm so close to let go, but first I need…

"Come for me, Rachel."

Sweet lord, I could come just by hearing the sound of her voice.

Her palm is quickly replaced by her thumb, and Quinn is increasing the speed, and bullying my clit at the same time, and I can't hold it any longer so I let go, falling apart under her touch and with her name on my lips. My body is trembling, but my breathing is slowly evening itself, and I can feel my muscles relax enough for Quinn to pull out her fingers.

However, I am not ready for the next thing that happens. Quinn is still riding my leg, and fingers that not two minutes ago were inside me, are now in Quinn's mouth and I can't help but moan (again!) at the picture because HOLY FUCK. Excuse the language. Her free hand is now squeezing one of her own breasts, and she's looking at me almost daring me to touch her, to do something. And I want to. But before I get the chance to, she's getting up and my eyes go wide.

_No, where are you going? Come back._

Almost panicking, I get up too, noticing that I am, in fact, almost fully clothed. Only my shirt is missing, and unlike me, Quinn _is_ fully clothed and that is completely not fair. Why don't I get to see her, why don't I get to touch her?

"Where are you going?" I sound angry, but I don't care. I don't want her to leave me again.

The room is spinning now and I realize that I am still dizzy. I can't be sure if it's because of the alcohol, or from that mind blowing orgasm. Probably both.

"I'm leaving early in the morning to New Haven."

That's her answer. She simply shrugs her shoulder, and grabs the ice container, almost ready to leave. I want to stop her, to get up, grab her by the arm and kiss her silly. Don't I even get a goodbye kiss?

"Remember those tickets I gave you?" I nod. "Use them. I don't have a roommate, so I will probably get bored and lonely easily."

_You fucking tease._

"We are not done here, so use them" The smirk on face was completely evil. "Oh," she says, turning around before leaving the room. "Be sure to cover that hickey on your neck."

I let out a sigh in frustration. She's gone, and though I got that relief I so needed, she's gone.

But just like she said, we are not done. This isn't over. And I took it as a challenge. Quinn Fabray, prepare yourself to get a dose of Berry in exactly a week from now.


End file.
